


creatures great and small

by orphan_account



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Derek Hale is Bad at Feelings, Developing Relationship, M/M, Stiles Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 17:02:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/801039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It wasn’t badass,” Stiles muttered, conceding his food to Isaac. “Unless you think fainting and having me drag your body to the car is badass. Then spending the rest of the night being really sick and acting weird."</p>
<p>Scott paused, mouth slightly ajar as he took that information in. Isaac quickly stuffed the pizza into his mouth to stifle his laughter.</p>
<p>“Die Stiles,” Derek said evenly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	creatures great and small

 

The gash on the back of Derek’s neck was healing slowly, which was strange to start, but the curiosity it aroused in Stiles was quickly masked by Derek turning into a wolf.

An _actual_ wolf.

Stiles was very familiar with the beast version of Derek that showed up whenever the moon was full or Scott pushed his buttons, but this was something straight out of the Discovery Channel. It was a full on wild animal with an impassive stare that made Stiles uncertain as to what its feelings were regarding dining on human entrails.

“Ff-uuuckkk,” Stiles said to the dark woods that surrounded him and the animal at his feet. His voice shook with the steps he took back, palms hitting the ground as he lost his balance. The wolf stood as he toppled over, huffing out a low growl, yellowed fangs revealing themselves. “Don’t kill me,” Stiles pointlessly pleaded and closed his eyes so he at least wouldn’t have to _watch_ the thing dismember him. The wolf let out another low moan and when Stiles opened his eyes again, Derek was crouched in front of him, entirely naked and with a sickly sheen of sweat coating his body. 

“You asshole!” Stiles yelled, kicking Derek in the leg out of pure relief.

 

Derek hissed at the impact but didn’t move. He looked dazed, and kept staring down at his hands and back up to Stiles’ face.

“Are you hurt?” Derek struggled with the words, his voice sounding thick and unfamiliar. 

Stiles tried to will his hands to stop trembling. “Fine, except for the minor bout of cardiac arrest. Why didn’t you tell me you could turn into a fucking wolf?”

“What?” Derek asked, immediately before passing out.

 

 

It took them almost an hour to get to Derek’s apartment (sometimes Stiles’ felt like his whole life was an exercise in demonstrating his lack of upper body strength) the process of which was not aided by Derek fainting twice more.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Stiles asked Derek when he was finally sprawled across his bed, damp skin revealing a bluish in the light. He looked like he had caught the flu from hell. “How can you be sick? Were you poisoned?”

“Shut up!” Derek snapped. Stiles watched his claws appear and retract fast enough to tear the bedding. “Turn off the lights. They’re killing me.”

“Okay just…don’t kill _me_.”

Derek made some embarrassingly pathetic sound into the pillow, which flustered Stiles enough that he immediately reached out and switched off the lights. “Better?”

Derek choked out a low sound of agreement. Stiles’ listened to his heavy breathing for a few moments before he heard the soft commanded of, “C’mere.”

“I am serious about the no killing thing,” Stiles whispered as he crept over.

“Shut up,” Derek said softly. He wrapped his hand around Stiles’ wrist. “I was a wolf?”

“Yes. A real wolf. Not a wolf-human thing. A huge fucking real wolf that looked like it was seriously considering me as a dinner option –”

“Shhhhh,” Derek said pulling Stiles’ closer to him. “No more talking. Sleep.”

“Wait, what does that mean? Has this happened before? What if you wolf out again and eat me?”

“No eating,” Derek promised sleepily. “Stay here. Stop moving so much.”

Stiles was a tremendous sucker for any request of Derek’s, especially those that involved personal favours and not just googling some werewolf lore thing for him because he refused to let Stiles show him how to work his iPhone. So even though there was no guarantee that wolf-Derek wouldn’t be gnawing on his jugular at some point during the evening, Stiles stripped off his shirt and jeans and crawled into the bed beside him. Derek reflexively curled up his body around Stiles’, his skin oddly cool and damp. 

“I’m now starting to think that I might wake up and you will be dead,” Stiles fretted aloud. “I have had enough therapy for one lifetime dude.”

“Shhhhh,” Derek whispered, his fingers finding Stiles’ hair.

 

 

When Stiles woke up, Derek was gone but likely still alive as suggested by the note that read _going running with scott talk to you later don’t forget to lock back door_

“Fucking asshole,” Stiles said, entirely relieved. 

 

 

Scott had never turned into a real wolf, nor had Isaac, but they were both immediately enthralled at the prospect.

“Teach me how!” Scott begged Derek as he walked through the kitchen, eyes flashing murderously at Stiles. 

“Why did you tell him?”

 

“Well I had to check to make sure you were okay. So I called Scott. Backstory was needed.” 

“I wrote you a _note_. That was to confirm I was okay.” 

Stiles shrugged and picked at the meat lover’s pizza that they seemed to subsist upon lately. Stiles never imagined he would tire of pizza, but he also never imagined he would be sharing the same diet as human-wolf hybrids that appeared to be impervious to heartburn.

“Is it because you’re an alpha?” Isaac asked woefully, eyeing the slice the Stiles was picking at. “I’ll never be an alpha. Fuck. A real wolf would be so badass.” 

Scott looked crushed. “Is it? An alpha thing? Fuck this beta deal man I am not cut out for –”

“Stop!” Derek snapped. “I don’t know what it is, now fuck off.” 

“It wasn’t badass,” Stiles muttered, conceding his food to Isaac. “Unless you think fainting and having me drag your body to the car is badass. Then spending the rest of the night being really sick and acting weird."

Scott paused, mouth slightly ajar as he took that information in. Isaac quickly stuffed the pizza into his mouth to stifle his laughter.

“Die Stiles.” Derek said evenly.

“Also he was only a wolf for like twelve seconds. Probably the worst twelve seconds of my life too.”

Isaac could no longer contain his mirth and started laughing and simultaneously choking on his pizza. Scott’s face split into a grin and his eyes danced back and forth between Stiles and Derek. Guilt made Stiles’ chest tighten, especially when Derek stopped giving him a death glare and actually shoved Scott aside so he could leave the room. As a pack, there were some touchy issues regarding authority and rank and Stiles never intentionally exacerbated them. It was difficult to respect everyone else’s rank when you didn’t have one of your own.

 

 

Three weeks later, Derek became a wolf again. This time Stiles saw it coming during a training exercise that Scott had devised which looked suspiciously like lacrosse drills. Boyd accidentally body slammed Derek so hard the impact made him go flying, at least a few feet back, before his body hit the dirt with a sickening thud, arm twisted up behind his back . Stiles was sitting on the hood of his Jeep, pretending to do his calculus homework, when he hsaw it happen. Stiles had sat up quickly as a panicked looking Boyd ran back towards Derek’s body.

Then he was a wolf. Just like that. Stiles blinked, he barely breathed, and the animal was before them. His fur was ragged, close in colour to Derek’s real hair, pale blue eyes locked on Boyd. Boyd stopped himself, only a few feet away from the animal.

“Jesus,” Boyd choked, taking a few steps backwards.

“Holy shit!” Scott yelled from behind Boyd and the wolf whipped its head around to watch him. The teeth were out now, just at the mere sight of him, and Stiles couldn’t even call out to Scott before he moved in turn. Fingernails into claws, fangs out, the whole deal.

“Scott, don’t!” Stiles begged, falling off the car and rushing towards them. The wolf halted at his voice and whipped his head around to meet his gaze.

Scott howled in outrage but the wolf was on its feet now, hurtling itself in Stiles’ direction, paws barely seeming to touch the earth as closed in on him. He heard Scott shout again and then Boyd join him, and Stiles closed his eyes and tried to accept that death by wolf was really the most fitting way for his life to end. All the howling, the screaming of his friends, was silenced as he felt the coarseness of the animal’s fur scrape along his arm. The sensation disappeared and Stiles gasped, adrenaline forcing his eyes to shoot open. The wolf had shot past him and disappeared into the woods.

Scott was close behind the wolf, his now human eyes flashing with terror as he grabbed onto Stiles’ shoulders. “Holy shit I thought he was going to rip your face off!”

“Yeah,” Stiles croaked, instinctively grabbing onto Scott’s hands. “Me too.”

 

 

It took two hours of searching but Stiles was grateful to find Derek first. He was also thankful that he remembered the blanket in the back of his Jeep (if the past year taught him anything it was that emergencies where people end up naked are fairly frequent among werewolves). The sight of him almost made Stiles’ legs give way; he was curled up beneath a tree, his skin mottled with the same bluish hue as before.

Derek’s eyes opened as Stiles approached, hazy and lost, and mumbling to himself as he struggled to sit up. Stiles wrapped the blanket around him tight, unable to stop himself from squeezing Derek's arms. “What the hell? What is going on?” 

“Did I hurt you?” Derek asked, dumbly. 

“No! Who is the one in the woods naked and dazed right now? For once, not me.” 

“I….I knew it was you.” Derek said. “When I was running. I could still tell it was you. I could smell you, I could _feel_ you. Everything else was different. Except you.” 

“Uh,” Stiles replied unceremoniously before Derek blacked out again.

 

  

Derek wouldn’t talk about it, he would simply walk away if any of the pack brought it up, and even when they were alone Stiles couldn’t get him to explain what was going on.

“I’m handling it,” he would reply gruffly, something that made Stiles’ insides roil with annoyance. Handling _what_? _How_ was he handling it? He couldn’t bring himself to admit it, but Stiles relished his role as Derek’s confidant – he was the person who secrets were entrusted to, whose knowledge and sense of intuition was trusted completely by Derek.  He always went to Stiles first and sometimes, that was what got him out of bed in the mornings, at least, until now.

“This is making me crazy,” Stiles told Derek. “You’re being ridiculous about it too.”

“It’s fine Stiles,” Derek said. He was staring at his Keurig like it held all the secrets to the universe within it. “I’m fine.”

“You obviously _aren’t_!” Stiles placed his coffee mug down harder than necessary on the granite countertop. “It feels like you know something about this and you aren’t telling me.”

“Why do I have to tell you everything?” Derek asked irritably.

It was Stiles’ turn to walk out of the room.

 

  

After three days of being quietly devastated, Stiles came home to Derek sitting at his desk.

“Go away,” Stiles said immediately, his voice cracking. He had been planning his brush-off of Derek since about twenty minutes after their argument, but his real life attempts to maintain some semblance of pride never worked out as well as the fantasies in his head.

“I’m sorry,” Derek said immediately.

That made Stiles stop. Derek didn’t seem to accept that feelings were a real thing, much less go around apologizing for injuring them. “I don’t want to put everything on you.”

Stiles dropped his bag to the floor. “Dude, you keep turning into an _animal_. That you can’t control! Then you wake up half dead! It’s kind of a thing we need to deal with!”

“I am dealing with it.”

“Not very well,” Stiles muttered, flopping down onto his bed. Derek was silent for a few seconds, before getting out of the desk chair and making his way over towards Stiles. Derek roughly squeezed his shoulder as he sat down, breath ghosting over Stiles’ skin as he leaned down to nuzzle the back of his neck. Stiles entire being rippled with pleasure at the simple motion. He really hated that Derek could do that.

“Trust me, okay?” Derek whispered.

Stiles exhaled and made no promises.

  

 

Isaac tells Peter, one of them was going to eventually, but at least Stiles gets out of having to endure Derek’s wrath it.

“Alright,” Peter grinned at Derek wryly. “Let’s see your trick.”

Scott emitted a low growl. If Derek and Scott agreed on anything, it was how much they hated Peter.

“Fuck off,” Derek replied. He was making burgers and was pulverizing the meat so aggressively Stiles suspected he was pretending the beef was actually Peter’s face. Derek had spent the last week cooking up a storm, perhaps hoping his weird foray into domestication would distract everyone from more serious problems. 

“I have been told that when you transform you take the shape of an actual wolf, not the traditional alpha form. Very interesting.” Peter gave a toothy smile and even though Derek hadn’t looked at him in hours, Isaac whimpered in distress. “So let’s see the magic happen.” 

“Peter, leave.” 

“He can’t just do it,” Stiles interrupted, knowing he would pay later for this transgression, but unable to contain his hope that Peter might be able to help. “Something has to happen.” 

“Stiles!” Derek yelled in frustration.

“Oh Derek,” Peter sighed, clearly loving every second of this. “He’s always been like this you know, terrible at asking for help until it’s much too late. Tell me what you know boy genius, I’m sure you have scoured the depths of the internet for answers here.”

Stiles could actually see Derek’s grip tighten on the handle of the meat tenderizer as he stared at Peter. “It happens when he’s hurt. Usually hurt kind of badly. At least that’s how it’s happened when I’ve seen it. It may have happened other times and he is hiding it from me.” Stiles tried to not let his voice drop off at the end of his statement.

“It hasn’t,” Derek replied suddenly adverting his gaze to Stiles. He looked slightly hurt but also like he was running out of energy for knowing who he was supposed be annoyed with. “Only those two times.”

Peter’s smile was so big Stiles hoped his face would break. “Very interesting indeed.”

Thirty seconds later he ripped the meat tenderizer out of Derek’s hand and clocked him across the head with it.

 

This time when the wolf appeared, Stiles watched it happen, almost in slow motion. The sprouting of the dark, rough fur and the fangs bursting forth; the way his eyes lost their familiar human light. 

Scott, confused and only half-shifted, lunged towards Peter who deflected him easily. Isaac flew towards Derek, but he had already transformed. With a swift motion, the animal leapt upon the kitchen counter. The wolf moved easily now, like it was more comfortable in its own skin.

_'It’s Derek it’s still Derek he won’t kill you calm down’ Stiles_ chanted over and over again in his head. The wolf’s eyes were locked on him, occasionally flicking its gaze over to Peter. It was steady now, like it was waiting for instruction. 

Peter, to Stiles surprise, was also staring at him, eyes glowing brightly. The soft sound of his laughter was enough to tear Stiles’ gaze away from the wolf.

“So,” Peter said to Stiles. “Your research has been going exciting places.”

 

  

“A protection spell?” Scott said blankly. He was sitting beside Derek, who had recovered much more quickly this time and was dressed in a new pair of shorts that Isaac had acquired for him. He spent a good ten minutes grumbling on how that was the third shirt he’d lost in as many weeks. “Stiles can cast protection spells?”

 “Apparently so,” Peter said, almost sounding gleeful. “Though he probably needs a bit of practice – the result shouldn’t be Derek almost dying every time he transforms.”

Stiles had spent the past hour memorizing the floor of Derek’s apartment, every etch and swirl contained in the hardwood in his spot of the living room was now locked into his brain forever. The guilt he felt occasionally threatened to overwhelm the massive surges of embarrassment that welled up in him every time Peter spoke. He would never be able to look Derek in the eye again. In fact, he would likely choose the option of having his eyeballs forcibly removed before allowing himself to ever look at Derek again.

“I didn’t think it worked,” Stiles said to the hardwood floor and no one else. “I mean. I didn’t _know_ it worked. It was just this thing I found. I thought it meant he would have animal protection. Like other animals would protect him. Not that he would…turn into one.”

“Your Latin might need some work.” Peter said dryly. “Though really,” he continued, “we should all be very impressed the spell was cast as well as it was. It is a very old spell one that requires an incredibly high degree of…emotion to be carried out.”

“Emotion?” Isaac questioned.

“Yes,” Peter replied. “Towards the recipient of the spell.” Stiles closed his eyes and willed his life to end as quickly as possible. 

“…Oh,” Isaac replied quietly. Stiles felt Isaac knock his knee gently against his own and that was exactly as much as he could take. 

He was out the door in thirty seconds flat and Scott was probably calling his name, but he was conserving every ounce of his shitty human abilities to get himself into his Jeep and away from everyone on earth he knew, as fast as he could. 

He had the key in the engine, trying to ignore how tears were starting to blur his vision and would likely cause him to crash the car on his way home (for the best, he justified) when he heard pounding on the window.

Stiles didn’t have to look up to confirm he knew it was Derek.  
  
“Wait!” Derek said from outside the car. “Seriously, stop.”

Stiles started the engine. “Go away,” he said plaintively. “Seriously, leave me alone.”

“I can’t,” Derek said simply. “If you try to drive away I’m going to bust your window.”

The threat imposed upon his car – one of the few things in the world he loved besides his Dad and his terrible, god awful friends who he was planning on never speaking to again – forced Stiles to meet Derek’s gaze. He expected an expression of outrage, of fury that Stiles had burdened him with such agony over the past few weeks. Instead, he looked worried. Stiles could count on one hand the number of times he had seen Derek visibly concerned. 

“Open the door,” Derek said. 

“Just let me go home.” 

“No,” Derek replied. 

Stiles closed his eyes and let himself slump forward so his head could rest on the steering wheel. He took in a few deep breaths, killed the engine and then reached over to unlock the door. 

He let out a muffled cry of surprise when Derek leaned across and pulled him clean out of his seat, burying his face into Stiles’ neck, and gripping him so tightly it actually hurt Stiles a little to breathe.

“I, ” Stiles started. “I didn’t mean to…I wasn’t _trying_ to-“

“Stop,” Derek said. “It’s okay. I knew. I figured it out a while ago.” 

Stiles tried to pull away, to see Derek’s face, maybe to even punch it, but Derek firmly held him in place. “You knew? Why the fuck didn’t you tell me?” 

“It’s complicated.” 

Stiles managed to free one of his arms and attempted to smack Derek on the back of his head. Derek let out a small chuckle, awkward and strange sounding given how rarely he laughed. “I could kill you right now.” Stiles whispered.

“I know you didn’t do it to hurt me. I was just trying to figure out a way to deal with it. On my own.” 

Stiles swallowed and jerked his arm back so hard that Derek released him slightly. “Right.” _Easier than dealing with some eighteen year old’s destructively uncontrollable feelings for him_ Stiles thought. “Makes sense. I’m glad you don’t hate me forever, but is it okay if I go home now and die of humiliation on my own for a while?” 

Derek’s face fell. “I’m doing a bad job at this.”

“No,” Stiles said. “You’re pretty much being a saint. Which is weird for you.” He turned back to the Jeep, fumbling for the keys.

“It’s not one sided,” Derek suddenly said suddenly, his tone edged with desperation. “It won’t work…I mean the spell _can’t_ work if I don’t feel the same. I’ve been reading a lot about it.”

Stiles glanced up slightly to study Derek’s expression in the reflection of the window. The expression on his face made Stiles feel like the vice grip around his body had returned and it was smushing his internal organs under something heavy and warm, making him slightly dizzy. “Oh,” Stiles said, trying to sound calm. “So does that also mean you know how to stop it?”

“Yes,” Derek said. “I do.”

“So why haven’t you?”

“I-” Derek paused, his skin slightly flushed. “I guess I’m not ready to part with it yet.”

Stiles managed a laugh. “You aren’t ready to part with me fucking up your life?”

“I’m not ready to part with anything you give me.”

The words made Stiles quiet for entirely new reasons. Derek gathered up Stiles’ hands in his own, pulling his body close and pressing him against the door of the Jeep. He was entirely happy to let Derek shield his body from the world around them, as when he leaned in to kiss Stiles, it was just rough enough that Stiles knew that he meant it. “Shitty things happen to me all the time,” Derek whispered. “But usually not because someone loves me.” 

When Stiles kissed him back, it was sloppy and uneven, a little desperate. If anything though, Stiles thought, that really summed all his feelings for Derek up. “I can try and tone it down a little,” Stiles whispered. “If you want.”

“No way,” Derek said. “Do your worst.” 


End file.
